


Summer Rain

by Zdenka



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: F/F, First Kiss, Pre-Canon, Rohan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-22
Updated: 2018-07-22
Packaged: 2019-06-10 01:31:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15280611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zdenka/pseuds/Zdenka
Summary: Éowyn and her friend take shelter from a sudden rainstorm.





	Summer Rain

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Elleth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elleth/gifts).



The sky was a clear blue when Éowyn and Hild set out, the grasses burning to gold under the summer sun. They were taken by surprise when the clouds rolled in quickly, heralding a summer storm. Éowyn reined her horse to a halt and shaded her eyes to look at the approaching storm. The grasses around their horses’ hooves were still bright with sunlight, but not far away, the plains lay under the shadow of the storm, and darker clouds were sweeping nearer like a grey curtain.

Hild halted her horse at Éowyn’s side. “We won’t make it back to Edoras before the rain hits. Should we ride back quickly, and get as far as we can before the storm overtakes us?”

Éowyn frowned. “Isn’t there anywhere close to take shelter? Even a shed—it only has to have a roof.”

“No—wait, there is! A shed that they use for the mares about to give birth. That way—”

“Then let’s hurry!”

The rain caught them before they reached the shed. In moments, Éowyn’s clothes were plastered to her skin, and her hair hung in sodden clumps around her face. She let out an exclamation of annoyance. Hild, equally soaked, was ruefully wiping water out of her face. Her eyes met Éowyn’s, and suddenly both of them were laughing.

Éowyn felt warmth grow in her chest. She could feel the rain pouring down on her; the grass was bending and whipping in the wind. The storm’s power was all around her, and she delighted at being part of it. “At least we can’t get any wetter now,” Éowyn said. She wasn’t truly uncomfortable; the summer air was warm, and the coolness of the rain was refreshing. She found herself smiling. Hild gave a soft laugh in return. They rode on, at a slower speed to avoid slipping on the wet grass.

They reached the shed, which was open on one side and had stalls for the horses. They unsaddled their horses, wiped them down with handfuls of straw, and hung the saddle-cloths to dry. Hild’s mare watched the storm, her ears twitching; Éowyn’s horse, of a calmer disposition, lowered her head to nibble on some straw. Éowyn and Hild stood side by side and watched the rain pour down. Thunder rumbled above them, up in the dark clouds.

“We should get out of our clothes too,” Hild said practically. She was already unfastening her belt. “We can spread them out to dry faster.” Éowyn swallowed and looked away. She could hear the rustling of Hild’s clothes, the sodden thump as she let her wet dress fall to the ground.

“Éowyn!” Hild said, laughing. “Were you listening?” Éowyn started, and began undoing her own clothing. She glanced sidelong at her friend. Hild was only in her summer underdress now, the thin linen soaked and clinging to her skin. Hild leaned over, gathering up the lower part of her underdress to wring out the water; Éowyn caught a glimpse of her strong legs below the draped folds of white linen, the intriguing shadows between her breasts. Éowyn felt dizzy for a moment, too hot, as if her skin was too tight.

Since the beginning of this summer, Éowyn had felt an odd spark of heat when she looked at her friend, when Hild’s eyes shone bright with laughter or when Éowyn noticed the curves of Hild’s body through her clothing. She had not spoken of it to Hild, or to anyone. It seemed too precious, too intimate, as if her new feelings might be destroyed by putting them into words. She guarded her secret jealously and treasured the moments when Hild took her hand or greeted her with an embrace.

Soon their dresses, stockings and shoes were spread out on the straw to dry, after they wrung as much water from them as they could. Clad in their linen underdresses, they sat down side by side on bales of hay and watched the rain come down in silver threads.

Éowyn distractedly tried to unknot the tangles from her wet hair with her fingers. She could not tell whether she wanted to look at Hild or away. To hide her confusion, she began to sing. The song was “Hild’s Messenger”; perhaps being here with her own Hild had called it to mind. The song told how Lady Hild, the sister of Helm Hammerhand, needed one to carry a warning to her son Fréaláf, though the deep snow and the spears of Wulf’s armies. Her sworn shieldmaiden knelt before her and begged to be the one to carry the message. In spite of the danger and the bitter cold, the shieldmaiden reached Fréaláf and warned him to avoid the ambush that might have killed him and all his men.

After a few lines, Hild joined in, weaving her harmony around the melody. Éowyn loved the chorus the best, the words urging the shieldmaiden to ride on, for her lady had need of her. She sang it strongly, as if she could reach back into the past and lend her strength to the rider and her horse. Hild added a high wordless descant like a battle cry, and Éowyn smiled in delight. Their voices joined together perfectly; it was like the feeling of being one with the storm, it was like riding her mare over the plains when she could feel the wind in her hair and the hoofbeats resounding through her whole body.

At last they reached the end of the song, where Fréaláf gave Hild’s messenger a golden arm-ring as reward and praised her courage. Hild was looking at her with bright eyes, with that smile that made Éowyn’s stomach clench pleasantly. “Éowyn,” she began. And then, “My lady. If ever you have need—let me be your shieldmaiden. Let me ride with you and guard you with my sword.”

Éowyn impulsively reached out and gripped Hild’s hands. “Yes,” she said. “I trust you, Hild, and I know your loyalty. Serve me as Hild’s shieldmaiden served her, and if war comes, let us ride to battle together!”

Hild’s entire face lit up. Her wet hair was curling about her face; she shook her head to get it out of her eyes. Droplets of water landed on her neck and shoulders. One droplet had landed in the hollow of her throat and was trickling slowly downward toward her breasts. Before she could think, Éowyn reached out and brushed it away.

Hild’s eyes widened. Éowyn could feel her face flush. She began to stammer an apology, but then Hild leaned forward, and she leaned forward, and somehow they were kissing. Hild’s mouth was warm and sweet and eager; Éowyn had never wanted anything so much. She caught Hild’s shoulders to draw her closer. When they broke off for breath, Hild was so beautiful, her lips half-parted and her cheeks flushed, that Éowyn immediately leaned forward to kiss her again. They curled up together in a nest of straw and lay in each other’s arms, trading kisses until the storm passed over and the sky was blue again, until the rain was only drips from the shed roof.  

At last Éowyn ran her fingers once more through Hild’s damp hair and reluctantly got up. They dressed in silence and rode back towards home. A few birds were singing, and the grass sparkled with raindrops like diamonds. Everything was the same, and yet everything had changed. They smiled when they caught each other’s eyes, for no reason except that they were together and happy.

Éowyn felt a moment of doubt as they approached the gates of Edoras. This new thing that was between them, was it real and true? Or would it vanish like the rainclouds once they were among other people and ordinary, familiar things? “Hild,” she said, and then stopped, not knowing what question to ask. “My shieldmaid,” she said instead, and held out her hand.

Hild took it without hesitation. ”My lady,” she answered. She was looking at Éowyn with shining eyes, the same way she had in the shed, and her hand was warm against Éowyn’s. They clasped hands for a moment and then released them. They were not touching, but Éowyn was conscious of Hild’s warm presence at her side as they passed through the gates and rode up the hill toward the king’s hall. Éowyn felt she had the summer warmth stored in her heart like a fire, enough to last through the winter and into spring again.


End file.
